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The photographic news
- Bandzählung
- 24.1880
- Erscheinungsdatum
- 1880
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- Englisch
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- F 135
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- Hochschule für Grafik und Buchkunst Leipzig
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- Hochschule für Grafik und Buchkunst Leipzig
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- Bandzählung
- No. 1146, August 20, 1880
- Digitalisat
- SLUB Dresden
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- Ausgabe
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- Wahlperiode
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Zeitschrift
The photographic news
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Band
Band 24.1880
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- Register Index 631
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Band
Band 24.1880
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406 THE PHOTOGRAPHIC NEWS. [August 20, 1880. recourse may be had to a fresh bath of hyposulphite of soda, or a rapid immersion in a 1 per cent, bath of cyanide of potassium. When hyposulphite is used, it is desirable, after washing, to dip the plate for five minutes in Water 100 parts Alum 10 „ Alcohol 1 part The tone of these plates is not the same as that of collo dion negatives : it is as well to try them before printing. They permit of retouching. Frilling does not generally take place, excepting in the hyposulphite; for that reason it is better to dip the plates in the alum bath before washing, or else to put alum in the hyposulphite bath. PRINTS FROM OLD NEGATIVES. BY THE AUTHOR OF “ LOOKING BACK.” No. 9—A Schoolmate ! Here are two negatives wrapped up together. As the reader may judge, they represent one person; but how different are the circumstances, both in the life of the sub ject and in the advance of the art of photography ! The first negative was taken by me when I was learning the profession, twenty years ago — indeed, as far as I can remember, it was one of the first I ever manipulated. It is a carte, with furniture enough to furnish a decent sized room ; one of the old style, you know, with a balcony and a far-away view to back you up—where you used to be ham pered up with all sorts of accessories, and where you appeared to be five miles off at least. There was no retouching in those days ; the only thing used was a little gamboge or Prussian blue to lighten up the shadows or spot out the freckles. No mediums or Faber’s pencils then I But then, again, you must consider that in those days—Yea, by my Halledom !—we never took anything worth retouching— the faces were all too small for the pencil, and we inten sified so strongly that they did not require it. Here he stands like a pigmy ! Small, thin-featured, broad-collared, narrow-coated, and tartan peg-top trowsers I He was a nice lad then ; and, singular to say, like the last “print,” he was a schoolmate of mine. His name was Wright—David Wright; and from my earliest recollections of him he had a certain ambition—an ambition that the reader will form a better conception of when I repeat a common saying of his, viz., “ I was born noble, and am bound to rise! ” Now, considering that his mother was an Irish washerwomen, the reader may understand me. Now, my young readers, pay attention to this : ambition, in my estimation, is one of the noblest attributes a man can have. Take my advice, and always try to equal those above you—surpass them if you can—but—but see that you only surpass them in honesty and uprightness. Do not do as my schoolmate did. I have told you about the first negative ; nowmy “print” must come between it and the second. It looks like a romance, but all I can say is that at times “ truth is stranger than fiction.” When I took the above negative David Wright was an assistant in a pawnshop ; his mother in early life had to deal with a certain Earl of B ; I mean in her way of business. By this means she learned all the family secrets ; and the said secrets she related to her sharp young son. One of those secrets struck David’s shrewd brain so hard that the mark remained indelible—in short, a quarter-inch bullet mark, which puzzled the coroner and jury of San Francisco. I will explain. The Earl of B had unfortunately a son of eccentric habits, a Bohemian—a rover—who, instead of quietly settling down and fitting himself for his seat in the House of Lords, chose rather to go and mix with the common herd. He would mow the wheat in the valleys of Germany ; he would drive posts from Havre to Paris; he would steer a lugger to the deep sea fishings ; in short he ed a most irregular kind of life, as the world says. At last, under an assumed name, he took the post of man before the mast on board a three-masted schooner bound for the cod fishings on the banks of Newfoundland. From that moment he was never more heard of. Years passed, and David Wright—who, unfortunately, bore a resemblance to the young Earl—landed on the quay of Montreal ; he had barely col lected his few belongings together when a gentleman who had been observing him very closely said— “ Do I speak to the Earl of B ? ” The devil was in David’s pocket in the shape of an empty purse, and at these words the devil jumped from the pocket to the head, where he at once prompted his victim to the fatal step that ultimately proved his ruin. “ I am the Earl of B. ’s eldest son,” quoth David. “ Then allow me to congratulate you, if I may use the expression,” returned the old gentleman, as he shook him by the hand. “ You are now the Earl.” " What, my father dead 1 ” shouted David, still prompted by that awful devil that had sprung from his pocket to his head. I shall go no further with this part, but conclude it by mentioning that David Wright, the washerwoman’s son, was introduced to the elite of Montreal as the Earl of B., and within a week he had got loans and bills to the amount of £40,000. For two years the police of New York hunted him ; he was all over the globe. First they would hear of him in Egypt, then Algiers, then London, follow him to Paris to find he had gone to St. Petersburg. Somehow or other, I cannot tell how, he eluded them—I dare say more by chance than good management—until at last they spotted him in America. One morning there was a scene in the principal bedroom of the principal Hotel of San Francisco. A gentleman had blown his brains out. That was the end of David Wright. Three years ago, when I went to Bath to fill an engage ment, I was asked by the printer if I had ever heard of the Earl of B that he had been photographed, &c. I said I had heard of him, but had never seen him. The subject was then forgotten, until one day the printer, looking lor a negative, exclaimed, “ Mr. B., here is the Earl of B ! ’’ When I looked through that negative every particle of strength departed from me ; in the highly retouched nega tive I instantly recognized my old “ schoolmate” ; a light dawned upon me, and I knew who the poor fellow (excuse the term, because hewas a school chum) was who personated the Earl of B . Twenty years between them—the puny old-fashioned looking boy, and the cool clear-headed swindler! The un touched and the touched ! He was my schoolmate : R, I. P. PHOTOGRAPHY BY GASLIGHT. BY P. MAITLAND LAWS. I will endeavour to satisfy your readers as well as I can in respect to the several queries that have been asked on the above subject. In the first place, about the gas meter I employ. I had a new meter and one-inch supply pipes fixed specially for Wigham’s burner. The meter is a thirty light one, and passes 180 feet of gas per hour. Most gas companies lend metres on hire, but it can be purchased for £4 10s. The burner consumes 160 feet of gas per hour when giving a steady flame ; when burnt to excess, giving a slightly roaring flame, the consumption of gas reaches nearly 200 feet per hour. The price of Newcastle gas is two shillings and sixpence per thousand feet, so that if the lamp is kept constantly burning the cost for gas would be about fivepence per hour. In practice, however, I find the light emitted by a small bye-pipe ample for focussing, but not quite suflicient for judging effect of light and shade; this can be accom-
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